


Causes and consequences

by zort



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: (yes there is an awesome stupid pun I couldn't work in the fic there), Anal Sex, Drinking, Easy easy Chris, M/M, Manipulation, Mick is nobody's friend, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Porn, and only want to polish his guitars, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zort/pseuds/zort
Summary: The plan is simple enough: get in, get off, get the cash...
Relationships: Chris Fehn/Jim Root
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Causes and consequences

**Author's Note:**

> This was a collaboration with Kat. But this is a new version, reworked or maybe remixed, I dunno what this is eactly.
> 
> I've been fighting with it for well over a week, trying to wrestle it into something that would make more sense than how we previously got it out. Dunno if i really got it there, but i'm fed up so here have it.

Climbing out his car, Jim looked through his hair at Chris's house. He thought back to why he was there, namely a shit load of cash and squared his shoulders. Locking his vehicle, he trudged toward his band mate’s front door. Then he raised his fist, hesitated for a moment longer and finally lowered his knuckles against the wood in a raspy knock before stepping back and folding his arms to await the other man

In the house, Chris was sprawled in front of the TV, channel surfing in the vain hope of finding anything of interest. When he heard the knock on his door, he was surprised as he was pretty sure he had a working doorbell, but figured this would have to be better than what he'd been doing. Pulling the door open, he was even more surprised to find one of his band mates standing there and looked on silently, waiting for him to explain himself.

"Hi," Jim decided was a good opener. "I was wondering if you wanted, y’know, to hang out..."

Chris cocked his head to the side. "As in go to a bar and get drunk?'

Jim shrugged, obviously not particularly taken by the suggestion. "If you want..."

Glancing down at himself, his ratty sweatpants and his lack of anything resembling a shirt, Chris made a face. "You should have called man, I needa get decent..." He walked back, opening the door wider. "Wanna come in to wait for me?"

Jim shrugged again and stepped into Chris's house. Then looking over at the other man, he added, "Well, hurry up then..."

Chris rolled his eyes. "I've got beers y'know. I could even be persuaded to share them with you..."

A smile spread across Jim's face at the suggestion. "Sounds good, man. I really could do with somethin'. Kinda dry..."

Chris grinned and motioned to the sitting room. "Tell you what, make yourself at home in there and I'll see what I can find in the fridge."

As he walked into the room, Jim felt a surge of uncertainty wash over him again, his shoulders dropped half an inch and he hesitated. Then once more, the figure of the money came into his thoughts and he made his way towards the couch, before sitting down on the edge of it. He called over to the kitchen. "How many beers do you have, dude?"

His nose in the fridge as he picked up two cans, Chris could hear Jim's voice, but not what he was saying. He walked back to the sitting room and dropped on the armchair opposite Jim before answering. "Sorry, didn't hear you. What did you say?"

Jim looked up at his band mate and smiled somewhat affectionately. "I said - how many beers have you got?"

Shrugging, Chris threw Jim one of the cans and opened the other. "How would I know? More than enough for the two of us, that’s for sure!" And after a short cheering motion, he took a long swig of his beer.

Jim made himself more comfortable on the couch, and looked at the can for a moment before cracking open his own beer. He slurped the run off out of the rim of the can and then asked with a snide smile. "What happened to the tee-total thing?"

Well-used to Jim’s brand of conceited small talk, Chris made a face like he had just been shot in the heart. He also put one hand over his eyes, the other against where his heart most likely was and moaned dramatically. "Man, this is low! How can you ask such a thing when you lot have been nothing but a dreadful influence on me?"

Jim half-rolled his eyes at the theatrics, and snorted a snicker out. "Don't blame us cuz you're weak..."

"Fine, then don't ask questions when you can’t deal with the answers..." Chris was pretty proud he hadn’t sounded as immature as the urge to stick his tongue at Jim had seemed to suggest, to cover up a bit he took another healthy swig of his beer.

Sniggering still, Jim shook his head and lectured on, "It's easier to blame other people than accept responsibility, isn't it, man?"

Chris flicked him off and decided not to answer. Instead he drank some more, though a bit slower, pondering just how much alcohol he’d need to get through this particular conversation against how much he fancied a hangover the next morning. "So, Root, apart from the moral lesson, what brings you to my lovely home?"

And that was the crux of it all really, Jim felt all of his nerves hit him back full force. He tilted his head back and looked around his band mate's decor, taking a long minute to meet Chris' eyes. "Your lovely company, of course... I missed you."

Chris nodded, more an acknowledgement than actual belief, and replied with a healthy dose of sarcasm, "Why thanks man, you're making me all teary eyed!"

Rolling his eyes, but with some affection, Jim smirked. "You're such a pussy, dude. Listen, I came here to get your opinion: you're a gambling man..."

As he was taking a sip from his beer, Chris bowed his head again, silently encouraging Jim to go on.

His eyes now entirely focused on Chris Jim went on: "What would you do for a lot of money?"

The question seemed important enough so Chris tilted his head to the side as he gave it due consideration. Eventually he answered, speaking slowly, his finger playing with the rim of his can. "I'd probably eat or drink really stupid things. And I guess I'd do fairly dumb shit, like running around naked in the streets... And sex, of course. Why d'you ask?"

"Dude! You'd fuck for money? Doesn't that make you a whore?" Jim blurted out, almost choking on a mouthful of beer.

"Let's put it this way, man: if Brad Pitt offered me 1 million bucks for one night with him, I would so never ever even think before saying yes. But if it was Angelina Jolie she'd only need to offer me around 2 bucks!" He laughed and added. "It might make me a whore, but I'd have fucked Angelina Jolie, man!"

Suddenly aware he hadn’t been at his politest, Jim nodded graciously and raised his beer to his band mate. "I hear you!"

Chris grinned, and mimed cheering his own beer to Jim’s from the other side of the living room before concluding: "Everyone has his price, man. Anyway, why the interest?"

Jim dropped his eyes bashfully and answered carefully, "I guess I'm just curious... I mean, we hang out a lot with the band and all, but I don't really get much chance to just kick around with you. You know, j-just you."

Chris tilted his head to the side and looked at his band mate questioningly. "What d'you mean? We hang after sound checks regularly enough I'd say... By the band's standards and your weird obsession with Corey, anyway!"

Unexpected anger flared up through Jim, he could even feel a slight blush rise to his cheeks, but he didn’t want to show it and rolled his eyes trying to act dismissive. "What makes you so sure it's not his obsession with me?"

"It wouldn't be half as fun to poke at you if that was it!" Chris answered with laughter in his tone.

Lifting his shoulders in a shrug, Jim smirked and sipped more of his warming beer. "Y'know, it's not nice to mock people...."

"Maybe not, but it's fucking funny!"

Jim rolled his eyes once more and set his beer down, looking at Chris. He didn’t like being made fun of and he sure as hell could throw back as good as he got. "You know what's really funny? Well, I guess ironic’s probably a better word for it… How you can be such a whore and not catch any nasty STDs."

And even though Chris was mostly aware that his choices in nocturnal activities weren’t getting everyone’s stamp of approval, he really hadn’t been expecting to hear it spelled out in the middle of hanging out in his own living room to boot. So he’d inadvisably been sipping on his beer and he almost choked on it at the words which got him coughing for a fair few minutes. When he finally calmed down, he didn’t really have much thunder left so he waved his hands at Jim and looked hurt. "How can you say such horrible things to me? I thought you wanted to kick around with me?"

"I do, but now I'm beginning to see why I didn't ever do this before..."

Chris blinked at the bitterness and figured he should probably remind Jim who had turned up unannounced at his door. "And why is that, pray tell? Nobody's ever complained to me before!"

With a sigh, Jim realised he’d pushed too far and folded his arms defensively before looking at Chris. "I don't mean to complain, I'm sorry. Just your Corey remark bothered me I guess…"

"Man, I was only poking fun at you. I never meant to imply you were anything less than straight, cross my heart and hope to die!"

Jim rolled his eyes at the words but accepted them for the apology they were and decided to try and stir back the subject to what he really had come here for. "Dude, I don't care about that shit. You can think whatever you like about me. Just... I don't know… Corey comments kinda bug me, I guess. Though I can’t really deny the sexual tension between me and him..."

Chris blinked, unsure where this was leading suddenly. "Sooooo... You're not so straight after all, eh…?"

Stifling a snort, Jim shook his head and pretended to back pedal. "Oh, shut up! Why d’you even care? I was kidding!"

A half-disbelieving smile playing on his face, Chris wasn’t sure how to move on from there. So he just nodded, finished his beer and stood up. "Want another one?"

Jim nodded, annoyed that Chris hadn’t taken the bait and unsure exactly how he should push the conversation towards what he wanted again. He watched as Chris walked out, presumably to his kitchen, and then back in, holding two cans of beer.

Taking the offered can graciously, Jim made a thank you motion with his head, then cracked it open before holding it in his large hands, contemplating his options as Chris dropped back into his armchair.

"So..."

Chris eyed him back for a second, then cracked his own beer and made a cheering motion. "So, I dunno. I mean, getting drunk on beer is fine by me, but you're the one who turned up here..."

Jim smiled again, thought of the massive amount of cash and got back to solving his current conundrum. "Is that a problem? I just thought we could hang out... Enjoying the time off?"

"Yeah, I am... " Chris broke in a leer. "I've been pulling right, left and centre and enjoying the attention. Still no STDs if you're wondering..."

Unable to withhold a smirk, Jim cocked his eyebrow in interest. "Got anybody special?"

Chris shook his head. "Nah, man, they come and go. S'funnier this way!"

"Funnier?"

"More variety, f'you see what I mean..."

"Chris," Jim paused, unsure how to word his question. "D...do you ever use people for sex?"

"James... If what you're asking is whether I ever paid for a hooker, the answer is yeah it’s happened though not in a while. If you want to know if I let people think it's more serious than sex, then the answer is no. And I'm going to pretend you just didn’t imply that I was into raping random people…"

With a placating hand motion, Jim sat back against the couch again and sighed. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to sound so judgemental… I guess I just don't like to think of people intentionally hurting others. I've used a few girls for quick fucks before and the guilt outweighs any pleasure for me... So long as you're cool, whatever by me, y’know?" There he paused and shrugged. And to show a little compassion, he added, "I just don't want to see you get hurt..."

To give himself a couple of minutes to think and avoid getting whiplash from everything Jim was saying, Chris took a long drink of the beer he'd forgotten to start so far. Then he made a face and mumbled, "Y'know, you're really starting to give me a headache. I mean, if I used people, shouldn't you be, I dunno... supporting them now? I mean they'd need it more than me, I think... Though I guess it's nice to know you care."

With another shrug, Jim replied slowly, carefully aiming to get things hopefully to where he wanted them. "I don't mean to confuse you. I guess I feel like I'm all over the place right now... I'm sorry, you don't need me getting all hung up on everything..."

"Hey s'ok. I don't mind. T's just, why are you all over the place? Something came up?"

Jim shook his head in response, taking a long moment to look out the window before he focused on Chris again, though most of his hair was hanging across his face now. "Nah, dude. Sorry, just... spending too much time alone, you know?"

"Feeling lonely you mean?"

Looking down his hands on his lap, Jim radiated depression and answered slowly. "I guess you could say that. Sounds kinda emo though."

"Man, it happens to the best of us! No need to be all dismissive of it. And why didn't you say so earlier? I'll call Sid and we'll throw you a party or something, make you feel all surrounded!"

Jim threw an unintentional glare up at Chris. "Oh please, I don't need that... Certainly not Sid's help anyways... You've never felt lonely in a crowd?"

Slightly taken aback by the vehemence of Jim’s answer, Chris nodded slowly and pondered as he sipped on his drink. "So you mean, you'd rather have something a bit more low-key? Like a poker game?"

"Yeah, that sounds kinda fun, I guess, like... I'm more comfortable one-to-one, you know? Really... get to know and connect with someone rather than have a thousand friends and know nobody..."

Narrowing his eyes again, Chris tilted his head and spoke slowly. "What you're saying isn't that you're lonely but that you're _lonely_." He made air quotes around the last word.

Feeling a hot flush roll over him as he finally got Chris where he wanted him, Jim rose his not so cold beer to his cheek, enjoying the feeling against his suddenly heating skin anyway, and shifted his hips uncomfortably on the couch. "I guess... Sorry, this must be the beer. It’s a bad idea... Sorry... Way too much information..."

Chris felt a little surprised after all the talk on needing a connection, but mostly he just paid attention to the fact that apparently sex was on the menu tonight and wasn’t it awesome that he didn’t even need to get out of his home for it. "Man, why didn't you say that earlier? I mean, I'd be happy to help... or did I get you wrong?"

Focusing his entire attention on Chris to make sure the man would think it was his idea, Jim blinked and spoke hesitantly. "What exactly are you saying?"

Chris held up Jim's look and enunciated his answer carefully. "I'm offering you company for the night, since you're feeling so lonely... y'know?"

His heart giving a thud of excitement as he realized the situation was finally getting real, Jim gulped, genuinely. "You serious?" He asked softly. Setting his beer down, he added softly, lying through his teeth. "I can't… say I planned for this."

A sharp pang of arousal got through Chris at Jim’s slow agreement and it took him a minute to string his answer together. "’Course I’m serious, for all of tonight at least..."

Jim shivered at the promise in the other man's voice, and he had to pause for a second to collect his thoughts. He looked up through his hair again and smiled at Chris, deciding to lay it on once more for certainty. "I don't want you to think I'm using you..."

"Man, I'm offering here. I don't really see how I could get to thinking that, y'know."

With a small smile and another shiver, Jim shrugged. "Alright, man... if you're sure..." Jim forced a blush and smiled shyly. "I'm kinda babbling... sorry..." He really wasn’t sure what to do next though, but he was saved from having to decide when Chris put his beer down, stood up and went to offer him his hand.

"Come with me?"

Getting to his feet, Jim felt a slight urge of nervous adrenaline in his stomach and something that was definitely arousal deeper in his gut. He dragged his hands across his jeans before taking Chris's with a smile and followed him with a deep breath but a light step.

They walked up the stairs, with Jim’s eyes focused entirely on Chris’s ass. And he reminded himself he was there for the cash. As they got into the bedroom, he felt his lips instantly part at the sight of the bed and he wondered if Mick would callously dock a naught off the prize money if he enjoyed it.

As he let lust overtake most of his higher brain functions, Chris thwarted the little voice trying to point out that this was shaping up to be a spectacularly bad idea. He was most decidedly not looking into the metaphorical gift horse mouth, though he was definitely interested in what was in his pants. Pulling Jim closer to the bed, he realized this was probably one of Jim’s first times with a guy and figured he should give him the usual warning. "F'anything's not good, y'know you can totally call it quits right?"

His head dropping forward in a nod, Jim agreed and added a mumbled, "You as well.”

Not bothering to answer as it seemed pretty unlikely he'd be the one not feeling it, Chris turned Jim over and pushed him gently back on the big bed. Jim fell back with a lovely soft moan and his hands went straight to his fly, popping the buttons. Chris grinned at the motion and without waiting, he crawled up over Jim’s body, straddling his crotch and slithering up his chest until he could whisper sofly in his ear. "Any ideas on what you'd want?"

"Uh," Jim murmured, his voice gravelled with aroused anticipation. "I... don't have a lot of preference... Nothing too rough though man, I'm not into getting hurt or anything..."

Chris chuckled. "Fine I'll keep the BDSM for another time..."

Laughing through another blush, Jim closed his eyes. "You're impossible," he managed to whisper hoarsely, opening his eyes to meet with Chris's. Unable to ignore the intimacy and pleasure building in his gut, he leant up and allowed his lips to meet with Chris's skin.

As he pulled his fingers through Jim's hair, Chris hummed approvingly and mumbled. "Yeah, I get that a lot..." And, as a sort of punctuation, he started moving his hips and his straining cock, right against Jim's own very present hard on.

To stop the room from spinning, Jim closed his eyes and reviewed the last few minutes until he got to Chris and all the pented feelings of arousal that Jim usually associated with girls but were clearly not bothered by the company. He raised his hands off the bed, rested them on Chris's waist, then slowly flattened his palms over his ass and gave a gentle squeeze in tentative encouragement.

Chris moved with a little more intent and chuckled. "Enjoying yourself so far?"

"Yeah!" Jim replied firmly, an exhilarated laugh stuck in his throat. "I'm just... I like you being on top of me right now."

Chris nodded and finally copped on to the lack of Jim’s skin available to explore. So he started popping open the buttons of his shirt slowly, until he had it fully open and could push it off the man’s tall frame. "Hummm... There's so much of you..."

Shivering again, Jim rose his hips up to Chris and closed his eyes against the sudden rush of arousal. He moaned lowly as he ran his hands over the other man's ass again. "This is good," he whispered, rolling his hips in small circles under Chris's body. And he blinked and grinned because Chris was already half naked and right there to be explored. Sitting up, he dragged his hands up his back, moved them over to his chest and finally got to gently pinching his nipples. "Oh, God Chris, your body's so beautiful..."

Focused on all the delicious feelings that Jim's ministrations were awakening, Chris mirrored the motion on Jim’s back, dragging his nails down his skin not too hard. He chuckled when his brain caught up with the comment. "Y'know I'm not a girl...You don’t have to sweet talk me into it!"

"I don't care about your gender! You have a beautiful body… And it's fucking hard to resist..." Jim replied with a slight snarl at being mocked.

Chris chuckled and licked a path up from Jim’s collarbone to his ear so he could whisper against the sensitive skin there. "Yeah, man… Tell me what you want to do to me!"

Closing his eyes to try once more to center himself and not drown in the sudden downpour of lust, Jim sighed softly. "I want... I want to... to be inside you," he mumbled. "I want to touch you and kiss you and hold you and, and... just feel... good and alone. With you... want to feel like I know you."

"Holy fuck! YES! I fucking want you to fuck me!" The incredible rush from the words got Chris by surprise and he didn't care that he sounded like a slut or desperate or anything really. He wanted Jim right now and he'd never been renowned for his patience.

Without waiting for more, he slid down the guitarist’s lap and started pulling at his jeans, only to have to stop when he realised he was going to get blocked by Jim's sneakers. Impatiently he pulled those off and got rid of his socks while he was at it with a grunt of triumph.

Swallowing most of a growl of approval, Jim shivered once more and reached over to put his hand on Chris’s shoulder. "Oh, god Chris... come here, I want to kiss you… Please!"

Holding a hand out so Jim would wait, Chris pulled at the jeans, throwing them away in the same motion, then he decided to get Jim fully naked and got his boxers off too. He let out a soft whistle of appreciation and completely forgot about Jim's request. Falling down in an uncomfortable crouch, he got his face against Jim's cock and gave it a long, tasting lick.

"Oh... Christ." Jim hadn’t anticipated this level of enthusiasm, nor how hard seeing Chris between his legs would make him. It was all he could do not to buck into his face.

With a mischievous chuckle into Jim's skin, Chris couldn’t help but answer: "Nah, I'm just Chris..."

Jim looked down at the man and managed a small, shaky smile. "You're not 'just' anything..."

"I'm just sexy, man!"

Jim rolled his eyes. "Will you just come up here so I can touch you and kiss you, like I asked?"

Resisting the urge to give another smartass answer, Chris crawled back up over Jim's body until he was where the guitarist wanted him. He grinned at him and waited pointedly as Jim leant up to close the gap, pushing a kiss to his lips. Letting himself be kissed, Chris started moving his hips again, fully aware the friction was probably going to drive Jim completely mad.

"Oh God," Jim predictably whined. "Can we...?"

"Can we what?"

"Fuck?"

"Fuck yes!" There, Chris paused and added. "Gimme a sec..."

Planting one last kiss on Jim's lips, he wriggled up to his bedside table retrieving the lube and a condom, that he dropped on the bed next to them.

Jim rolled onto his side and trapped Chris under him, so he could make light work of Chris's sweatpants. A feeling of triumph swelled up his chest when he finally revealed his arousal. Then, Jim looked up into Chris's eyes and smiled a little before lowering his head to lick a path up Chris's cock experimentally. He was gratified at the full body shiver that got through Chris in answer.

"You're so sexy," he murmured and finished taking off the rest of Chris’s clothing. Then he grabbed the lube, uncapped it expertly and slicked his fingers as he got into position between Chris’s leg, dragging his finger around his asshole, before easing his finger up into him.

With a long moan, both from his lust multiplying at how Jim wasn’t wasting any time and because it just felt so good, Chris writhed under Jim. It felt as intensely good as it always did and he finally managed to groan. "Man, you sure you never did this before?"

Ignoring the question, Jim moved his finger in and out a few times before pushing a second finger in to meet his first gently. "Mmm...it's good huh?"

"Oh fuck yes!" was about as much as Chris’s brain managed to get out between the waves of pleasure washing right through him.

With a smug smile, Jim kept stretching his band mate's body with his fingers, watching his reactions carefully, enjoying the sensation of control. Then he outstretched his tongue, gently flicked it against Chris's cock and demanded lowly. "Cry out... Come on, let go..."

"Fuck!" It took Chris all of what was left of his self-control not to push harder onto Jim’s fingers and to get half coherent words out. "No. Want you... in!"

With the same, smug smirk, Jim withdrew his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace and slid the condom on without trouble. He then swiftly added some more lube over his firm erection, before lifting Chris's legs up and gripping his cock by the base of the condom as he guided himself in.

"I want in too..." He whispered through gritted teeth, slowly pushing inside Chris's tight warmth. "So fucking beautiful..."

Chris whimpered incoherently at the feeling of Jim pushing in. Obviously he wasn't unused to that sort of thing, but it was becoming clear he may have overestimated himself somewhat and the penetration was more painful than he had expected. He squeezed his eyes shut, threw one hand over his face clawing at his scalp while his other hand gripped Jim's shoulder hard.

Looking down at his partner, Jim felt a pang of guilt strangle his gut. "Dude, you okay?"

For a moment, Chris didn't answer, then when the pain had mostly faded, he cracked one eye open and mumbled _M'fine..._ in a voice he hoped would be steady enough.

Jim was unsure if he could believe Chris already, but he wasn’t sure he could wait for much longer either. "Am I hurting you? Too much...? Tell me what to do..." He whispered, wrapping his fingers around Chris's cock in an effort to relax him.

The minute motion reignited the burning need in his gut and Chris pushed himself down on his cock again, letting out a loud moan of pleasure mixed in need. He was past words again and hoped his motion would be clear enough.

Allowing Chris a few more moments to adjust, Jim tightened his grip around his cock and finally let himself push back inside him deeper.

"S'good?"

Chris could only manage an incoherent moan of pleasure. He clung hard onto Jim's shoulder, trying to get him to increase the rhythm.

Just as he bottomed in, Jim lost his last shred of self-control. He closed his eyes, groaned in pleasure and sped his motions up with both his hips and his hand.

Things were getting mixed up for Chris, he wasn't sure where his cock ended and his ass started anymore. He didn't even know whether he was moaning or screaming, and more importantly he didn't care. He wanted only one thing to ride it all to the edge, which was coming fast with every powerful stroke.

Keeping his eyes closed, Jim could feel his climax approaching. He dragged his hand off Chris's cock to grip underneath the percussionist's shin, holding his legs taut against his own hips as he probed deeper and grunting at his own pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck… So good, I'm so close!" He snarled, thrusting faster with every moment.

The increasing rhythm was a wonderful thing and Chris was tensing, trying for a moment to keep his climax at bay, only to have it hit him full blast a second later. He let out his loudest scream and came all over his chest, his muscles curling tight around Jim inside him.

Groaning at the feeling of Chris's release and seeing its evidence on his skin, pushed Jim over the edge too in a million tiny pieces of bliss. Fifteen thousand pieces...

"Oh, fuck," he whispered and pulled out of Chris quickly, getting rid of the condom and cleaning himself up with anything he could grab. Then, he shuffled toward the edge of the bed, looking for his shirt on the floor.

"Damn, you're something else," he managed to tell Chris. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Chris let out a grunt in answer. How could Jim already be babbling right after the orgasm they'd just had? Without really thinking he reached out for him in a way that could only mean that he was asking for some sort of cuddling.

Unsure of what to do, Jim merely grabbed Chris's arm by the elbow and held it for a moment, not shifting his body any closer. "Shh..." He soothed, "I'm right here, just... give me a minute."

Something in Jim's voice alerted Chris and he forced himself first to open his eyes, then to sit up, letting go of the remains of pleasure he'd been nursing. "Are... you ok? You don't seem too good..."

"I'm fine..." Jim managed to say, unable to look at Chris's face and reminding himself that it had been Chris's idea. To buy himself a countenance, he leaned down to grab the shirt he’d finally located. "I'm great... That was just pretty intense..."

Chris nodded along then narrowed his eyes, something didn't ring true. He reached for Jim's shoulder, shuffling closer to him.

Sighing out, Jim let himself be pulled into a gentle hug, trying to stay there a little longer. "It's just me... This is all... You were great, thank you, I feel good... I think I just got a little overwhelmed."

Still trying to piece together what was going on, Chris let go. "I see… Well, glad you feel good, maybe coffee’d help?"

Shaking his head slowly, Jim swept a piece of his hair out of his face and leaned towards Chris, pecking his lips softly. "I think I'd better go..." He told him gently. "It'll be dark soon..."

"You don't gotta run away y'know… My coffee’s fine and doesn’t come with strings attached."

"It's not that." Jim replied, making sure to catch Chris's eyes. "I really have to get somewhere before nine, I told Corey I'd..." He paused, failing to come up with a decent enough excuse. "I just have to go. I'm not running though. And I will see you soon... so... I just... think I should go before I say something or do something or...”

Chris shrugged. "Fine, man. No need to justify yourself..."

Nodding along, Jim pulled away and stood up to pull on his shirt. He found his boxers, then his jeans and pulled them on, along with his socks, having to sit down again to adjust them around his toes and feet. He put his shoes on straight after and then stood up, feeling less exposed as he cracked a grin at his band mate. "That was good, thanks."

In spite of just how bizarre this whole part was turning out to be, Chris nodded to Jim and smiled. "Like I said, you’re more than welcome. If you want a second helping you know where to find me..."

"I'm not sure that would be too smart." Jim replied curtly, moving toward the bedroom door and opening it, a triumphant smile blooming on his face now that he had achieved his goal. "But if you ever get drunk: I'm game... I'll see you round, sports fan."

"What the...? What d'you mean if I ever get drunk?"

With a callous shrug, Jim nodded over at the bed. "You brought beer into it... so if you ever feel like you want a few, and then to fool around..." He let it hang. "Listen, I really have to go... I'll see you though. I promise!"

"What the everloving fuck?! That was just-" But Chris never got further because he couldn’t find the words. He was suddenly feeling dirty and that was intense enough to steal his voice from him.

Jim looked at his naked band mate for a second and half considered turning back towards the bed but this was Chris, and as he admitted himself, he was not new to this in any way.

"Look, it was your idea," Jim uttered after a few moments of weighing up his options. "I don't mean to be rude, or an ass, but I don't normally sleep with pals…"

Chris eyed Jim warily, while climbing out of the bed and pulling on his sweatpants again. "Fine, whatever..."

"I just have to go right now. But, thank you… And, it was good..." Jim babbled.

"Just fuck off already..."

With that he turned his back to Jim, walked out of his room and went downstairs to make himself some coffee, or something stronger depending on how'd feel after Jim had finally left.

Letting out a slow sigh, Jim waited for a few minutes, waiting to see what was coming next. As the silence stretched, he decided it was safe to slide out of the room and the house.

Once outside, he shook his head and tightened his lips as he moved back toward his car, unlocked it and sat in the seat. Moments passed before he picked up his cell phone and dialled the last number. "I did it fucker! Yeah… just… let’s meet at your place so you can give me the fucking cash, okay?"

________

Perhaps it was still the cloud of elation that lingered that made Jim forget his usual A-grade morals and manners, but he opened the front door to Mick’s house and stepped in, without batting an eyelid.

"I'm here," he called up. "Mick? I'm here... where are you, asshole?"

In the sitting room, about 15 feet away from where Jim had stopped, Mick was doing his favourite thing: polishing his newest guitar. He was surprised to hear Jim walk in without even knocking, but he didn't give it much thought. He wanted to devote as little time to the other guitarist as possible, seeing as how he'd won that bet and Mick was feeling distinctly sore about it. He grunted something that ought to tell Jim where he was.

Striding up into the room and towards the other man, Jim mentally reminded himself of his goal before he spoke stiffly. "So I'm here."

Mick looked up and put his guitar to the side. "So I see… Lemme get your cash, it's on the table..."

With a nod, Jim stepped out the other man's way, defensively sinking his hands into his pockets. Then to give himself something to do, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it hurriedly.

Walking past Jim, Mick glanced at him, half checking though he wouldn’t have been able to say what exactly. But there was nothing to see so he swiftly grabbed the wad of cash and held it towards Jim. "Here it is, all 15,000 bucks..."

Jim let his eyes fall onto the green and had to close them for a moment against the unexpected wave of feelings. He then realized he’d finished his cigarette and walked back to the door instead of taking the cash.

"Okay..." He mumbled as he tossed his spent butt out the front door, the fresh air reinvigorated him. He then closed the door, and looked back at the other guitarist, crossing his arms. His eyes fell to the pile of bills in Mick’s hand. "I don't think I can do this."

Mick smirked triumphantly. "So you're finally admitting that you're full of shit and you never did anything!"

With a self-satisfied sigh, Jim's eyes met Mick's. "No, I'm saying I did, and no amount of dollars is gonna take it back... I realize not taking the money means I did it for nothing, but I'd rather have no money than make my friend a game, a whore..."

"Trust you to go all righteous about everything!" Sneering at Jim, Mick threw the cash at his feet.

"If you think that's what it is to have a conscience..."

"Funny, yesterday you didn't seem so keen on it. As I recall, you were the one saying you could fuck anyone no questions."

“Well, I fucking did. I got Chris no problem, but I guess I'm stuck cuz I didn't pick up any of his boxers for proof or whatever..."

"And you're trying to explain to me that it was so earth shattering, you suddenly give a damn about what you did?"

Jim dropped his eyes from Mick’s searching glare. "Of course, it wasn’t… But he's a person, not just some chick, you know? We chose him cuz he's easy, and he fucking was, bought everything I fed him but... then...? I just... I just... regret it, man." His voice wavered somewhat as he tried to rationalize, his eyes now focused on the pile at his feet.

Mick let out a spiteful laugh and rolled his eyes. "Oh you’re such a self-righteous fucker!”

“Fuck you! What happened was horrible and no amount of money will make it okay..."

Fully unprepared for what that sentence conjured in his mind, Mick froze and asked hesitantly, "What d'you mean horrible, man? He didn't make you do anything you didn't want to, did he?"

Refusing stubbornly to let his eyes meet Mick’s, Jim let his chin quiver a little, taking a deep breath before answering, "God, no... ‘f course not. Besides I still gotta work with the man, don’t I?”

Mick’s worry didn’t decrease very much but he also saw an interesting new angle to pursue. "You gotta point yeah… Say how about I give him a call and ask him about his day..."

Jim felt his eyes widen and he lifted his gaze from his cash to Mick's face. "No… what? Why?"

Fishing his cell phone from his pocket, Mick smirked at Jim nastily. "Why? But because we’re band mates and I haven’t seen him in a while. Obviously I wanna know what he’s been up to lately!"

Brow furrowing in anger, Jim stepped toward the other guitarist. "You're out of line, dude! Leave Chris alone. This is between him and me!”

"But where would be the fun for me?"

Sighing in defeat, Jim dragged his fingers through his unruly hair. "Please don't do this..."

Mick smirked triumphantly and turned his back to Jim as he made his way back to his couch. “Ah, you’re so full of shit, man. Fuck off, will you?”

"Fuck you dude," Jim grumbled, "I don't really want to see you either, but I'm not leaving until I know you won't call Chris to gloat or something..."

"The longer you stay, the more likely I am to call... Don't let the door hit you on your way out!"

With a low, deliberate sigh, Jim swiftly grabbed the wad of cash and opened the front door. Already half out, he paused, struggling to think of a closing line. But nothing came and he let the door shut behind him.

Giving himself a few minutes to decide what would be his best course of action now, Jim walked back to his car and dropped the money on the passenger’s seat with a satisfied grin. Then he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and stared for a minute at Chris's number. Eventually he composed himself, pressed the icon on his phone and held it to his ear.

It took Chris almost all the rings to answer. "Jim?"

"Hey, Chris… We gotta talk, man."

Chris pulled himself out of his couch and started walking around the house. "Yeah, I figured something like this would come up..."

"...Yeah." Jim replied softly and let out a loud sniffle.

Dragging his fingers through his hair, Chris stared at the wall in front of him and frowned. He tried not to sound too pissed but he couldn't keep all the bitterness out of his voice. "Let me guess, you never want to hear about it ever again..."

"What?" Jim blurted. "No, that's not it. I... I did something really bad: I risked everything for a bet... I was really fucking stupid and I used you to make a quick buck because... I needed cash and it was fucking stupid and I wish I'd never done it. I didn't take the money, though. I want to make this right! Chris, I’m not sure what to do, now....” His voice trailed to a whisper. “I wanted you to know from me..."

For a moment, Chris was too stunned to say anything. "Wait, so let me get this straight: you came here and fucked me, because of a bet? That's fucked up, man!"

"Yeah, I… It's the lowest fucking thing anybody could do. I hate what I did," Jim replied faintly. "...Chris..."

"Shut up, Jim..." He stopped there, trying to figure out the lump of mixed feelings that was suddenly caught in his throat. When he failed, he switched to trying to answer Jim instead. "I... You... Look..." He stopped, took a deep breath and started again. "T'be better if I was only an easy fuck..."

"No... I made you fuck me so I could get cash. I took advantage of you..." Jim said softly. "I'm trying not to beg or mope, I can't make this right... I just wanted to be honest and tell you I know how wrong I was… I’d understand if you never wanted me to mention this again..."

"Yeah… Whatever..." Again, Chris couldn't put his feelings into words. He wasn’t used to feeling like a cheap whore, this sure was new and not altogether pleasant. "Look, give me some time to process... "

"I never expect it to be cool..." Jim replied gingerly, his eyes landing on the money next to him.

Chris shrugged. "Whatever man... I'll see you at the next band meeting or something." And without waiting for another answer, he turned his phone off.

For a moment, Jim didn’t move, the noise from the disconnected call still coming mutely from the phone. He half-imagined calling Chris again but had no idea what else he could say. He sighed, then lit himself another cigarette and started the car up as he considered what he was going to do with his hard-earned cash.


End file.
